


there's no winning

by Julx3tte



Series: you can sail on thin ice long as i can too [6]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), a lot of telling silence, blue lions - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:09:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24282604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Julx3tte/pseuds/Julx3tte
Summary: Sylvain faces a former childhood friend in battle. Ingrid notices. Feat. a poor burned out Sylvain and glorious sky commander Ingrid.
Relationships: Ingrid Brandl Galatea/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Series: you can sail on thin ice long as i can too [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1747528
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	there's no winning

The man standing in front of Sylvain was a traitor. 

This week, the mission was to track down the last of the Dukedom’s commanders remaining in eastern Faerghus. Half of the Blue Lions set a trap in the middle of the night in a small town just west of Blaiddyd, while the other half began the chase in the morning.

It worked. Annette had set fire around the perimeter to prevent the Dukedom forces from escaping, and Sylvain’s forces pushed through the north flank, cutting their way through outnumbered Dukedom forces trying to escape.

They had the numbers, but the battle was chaotic. Civilians ran through the battles, running through the small alleyways between buildings who’d lost their roofs to Annette’s flames. In the skies, Ingrid was fighting to gain control - this particular remnant had a full battalion of pegasus knights. That fight would turn soon, once Dimitri and Dedue cut a clear path for Ashe through the heaviest of the Dukedom defences. 

The town was burning, and it was horrible. War was never kind, but rebuilding this town would take months. More, if too many people lost their lives during the hasty evacuation.

They’d had to weigh warning the townspeople with losing the trail and having to chase the Dukedom forces too far west and getting pincered themselves. The choice - having to weigh those two things at all - made Sylvain’s stomach churn. 

But the price for clearing the East of the Dukedom was worth it, and he and the professor had their own parts to play. 

Thanks to some help from Manuela, they’d warped behind enemy lines to assassinate the enemy commander. The professor peeled off to engage his guards, leaving Sylvain to actually finish the task.

It was funny, watching the professor take on a fight outnumbered three-to-one and knowing that he’d still have a harder time finishing his objective.

The enemy commander was a shorter, stocky man. His armor was scuffed and muddy, but sturdy. His face was hidden, but there was a smile underneath the helmet. The way he stood was a tell. The fact that he held a rapier was another. 

It was a bad omen. 

Sylvain had the range and mobility advantage, but a strong hit would dismount him. And  _ that _ would make this fight a pain in his ass. 

He charged, lance out, and traded blows. The rapier bounced off of Sylvain’s spear, knocking it off course. He’d gone for the heart, but clanked off his opponent’s helmet instead, knocking it askew.

Not bad. 

He spun the  _ Lance of Ruin _ around over his head while kicking his horse into a turn, and Sylvain charged for a second time.

Sometimes, during battle, time slowed down. It felt like a single cool breeze in the heat of battle. Maybe it was his crest. Sylvain could see the battle unfold around him in three theaters. 

In the skies, Ashe had broken through. The enemy pegasus were falling out of the skies, and Ingrid’s soldiers were pushing forward, herding small groups of the enemy soldiers into corners and felling them. It was odd to celebrate bodies falling from the sky, but Ingrid made him feel like that sometimes. Better them than her.

To his left, the professor was still fully engaged. It looked like they were having fun, dancing between enemy knights and cutting them down.

In front of him, the enemy commander threw his helmet down. Sylvain could see the man’s grin now. He looked familiar.

Sylvain searched his brain, trying to remember who it was. 

A split second before contact, Sylvain remembered and his blood ran cold.

It was Moraeu. They’d sparred together as children, well before the officer’s academy, and he had a brother. Sylvain liked the boy. He had potential as a knight, smart and talented. Probably as old now as they all were before this war started. 

He’d been aiming for the heart again, and missed, slicing through the air just next to his target. 

The rapier sliced through one of his horses’ legs, armor and all, sending Sylvain rolling and tumbling and crashing into a tree. Sensing the advantage, Moraeu charged himself, thrusting right at Sylvian’s neck. He brought up the  _ Lance of Ruin _ , but not quickly enough.

But above him, a shadow descended with a gush of air.

Ingrid had descended into a dive, pulling her pegasus down and impaling  _ Luin _ right through Moraeu’s arm. Sylvain rallied with a counter-slash, and Ingrid finished the fight, cutting Moraeu’s throat. He fell back with a gruesome thud and the sound of blood gushing.

It was over, then. The death of their commander, along with Byleth engaging his lieutenants, would scatter the enemy forces. Without control of the skies, tracking down any escapees would be simple enough.

Sylvain sighed against the trunk of the tree. His heart caught in his throat as the adrenaline wore off.

Ingrid looked worn. She had the toughest part of the battle, and he’d made her swoop down to save him anyway. Pegasus dives were no easy task, and more so after a prolonged combat in the air.

Worst of all, he’d really hesitated. It was the first time he’d done that since Miklan turned into one of those beasts and he had to strike it down. He could have - she’d have to see him --

Ingrid, who was still looking at the body at her feet, saw him slam his head against the tree out of the corner of her eyes. 

“Sylvain,” she said, voice filled with relief.

“Sorry,” he grumbled, spiking his lance into the ground to help him sit up. It sank into the mud as it bore his weight, and pain shot up his sides. One of his ribs was broken from the impact.

“I’ll take you back,” she offered. She let up a hand, waiting for Sylvain to stand. More pain, this time from his left shoulder. He shifted his weight, using his legs and the lance to stand. He hated making Ingrid wait, worse wait for him because he was dumb enough to let himself get hurt when --

He made it to the pegasus, climbing on behind Ingrid and grabbing her waist. “We should put my horse down. He lost a leg during the fight.”

Ingrid simply nodded and trotted her pegasus over to the horse. She let Sylvain do the job in silence, and they took off.

By now, the battle had died down. He could tell Ingrid was drawing out their flight, giving him some time to settle down again. 

There wasn’t much for him to say. They’d all debrief the mission later in Dimitri’s tent, and he’d tell everyone about Moraeu then. Besides it was too loud - flames still crackled underneath, and men were still shouting orders over them.

Instead, he drew against Ingrid closer and rested his head on the back of hers Sylvain closed his eyes, breathing slowly to the rhythm of the pegasus’ wings.

**Author's Note:**

> bah i'm trying to make my emotional writing better. i feel stuck trying to get into my character's heads and turn them into words from the inside of them (rather than as a third party narrator). maybe i should write in present tense again...


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